tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53250842814418470532024-02-08T02:19:26.107-08:00Aby Sanchezdisenyo e ilustrazionsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-57113002258528132262009-12-22T14:58:00.000-08:002009-12-22T15:00:57.215-08:00my day<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SzFO0uu83_I/AAAAAAAAAs0/woibq49IXT4/s1600-h/my-day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SzFO0uu83_I/AAAAAAAAAs0/woibq49IXT4/s320/my-day.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Asinas son os mios maitíns, güellos fotaus,mixos benzidos<br />
por o suenio pero con ganas de fiestas y un poziello de café<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">que me´n da de fuerzas ta poder meter-me en pie.<br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-28130531418848637082009-05-05T14:59:00.000-07:002009-06-20T06:49:07.980-07:00O suyo árbol<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgC3krTtAuI/AAAAAAAAAns/_lHlymAHFP0/s1600-h/bandiador-v2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 311px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgC3krTtAuI/AAAAAAAAAns/_lHlymAHFP0/s400/bandiador-v2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332463799535207138" border="0" /></a><p style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Toz diziban que ixe árbol yera xuto, pero por una estrania razón, cada begada que Claudia se’n puyaba á chugar, Crexeba una miqueta más y si yera un diya de carcalladas una nueba flor florexeba.</span></p> <p style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Claudia i plegó por casolidá, ya yera amán d´a suya casa, pero cuan lo beyó, por primer begada, sabió que ixe yera o suyo árbol.</span></p> <p style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Buscó una baguera y una tabla de fusta y comenzipió á bandiar-se.</span></p> <p style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Cuál estió a suya sospresa, que en aturar de bandiar-se, sintió que bella cosa li empentaba, con suabeza, pero con prou enerchía como ta poder sentir que no yera solenca.</span></p> <span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;" >Que o suyo árbol, no yera un árbol cualsiquier, sino un amigo, o suyo compañero de chuegos.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> </span></span><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;" ></span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" > </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-15046528940242804062009-05-05T14:57:00.000-07:002009-06-24T09:13:31.213-07:00prexina<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgC2cmDAG4I/AAAAAAAAAnk/sICzi32GHdU/s1600-h/leutura-chiquet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgC2cmDAG4I/AAAAAAAAAnk/sICzi32GHdU/s400/leutura-chiquet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332462561172396930" border="0" /></a><br /><p style="text-align: left; color: rgb(120, 63, 4);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >A prinzesa escubrió que o suyo caballo, menau por a luna, la eba trobau...</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-66194753126069898412009-05-05T14:50:00.000-07:002009-06-25T01:58:59.895-07:00reina tirabola<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgC1QSFxP_I/AAAAAAAAAnc/W0viunxCPBA/s1600-h/reina-tirabolas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgC1QSFxP_I/AAAAAAAAAnc/W0viunxCPBA/s400/reina-tirabolas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332461250145239026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Dizen que, de zerca, o suyo coloriu t´embade y te plena de sensazions, tamién rezentan que cuan la beyes u la sientes, no puedes pas dixar de sonrisar-te. Muita chen la busca ta trobar aconorto y ixuplidar, u más bien alpartar, as suyas penas mientres un tiempo, encara que siga chicot. Si a tuya pena ye tan graniza que te plega á fer mal, Ella te busca á tu y si te dixas, te troba. Asinas que no dandalies pas, SONRISA-TE.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-57040535281239467572009-05-05T14:38:00.000-07:002009-06-19T17:42:33.905-07:00Soledat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgCy0DbKiBI/AAAAAAAAAnU/BsU0UyztHBc/s1600-h/soleda.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SgCy0DbKiBI/AAAAAAAAAnU/BsU0UyztHBc/s400/soleda.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332458566148851730" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Cada mes feba as suyas maletas y á o cobexo d´a nuei saliba de casa, sin catar ta zaga, sin pensar ni un inte en o que yera fendo, se sentiba desdichada, solenca... no trobaba o suyo puesto, sapeba que ixe no yera o suyo puesto, pero a eszena se segundiaba una y atra begada y o final siempre yera o mesmo, fer meya buelta de bez que d’a suya boca saliba un chicot pero fundo sospiro...</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-12566728315846342072009-05-04T15:19:00.000-07:002009-06-25T01:59:50.169-07:00engarcholada<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sf9rA17DPcI/AAAAAAAAAnM/uEjev3Ey0os/s1600-h/xaula.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sf9rA17DPcI/AAAAAAAAAnM/uEjev3Ey0os/s400/xaula.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332098146048884162" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68);"></span> <span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68);"></span></div><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Os guardians li albirtioron: Un corazón engarcholau no ye un corazón bueno ni sano. Si i dentras, mái te desepararás d´o suyo costau. Semblaba no ascuitar pas, pensaba en a tristura que li transmitiba, en o solenco que yera y en que un corazón no podeba fer mal.<br />I dentró, á penar d’as albertenzias, mái tornó á salir-ie, yera como machia, Cuan dezidiba salir d´a garchola, bella cosa li feba tornar-ie, tornaba á sentir lastima, s´apiadaba d´él, s’ixuplidaba d’o muito que ella penaba. Y de fundo, perén de fundo, ascuitaba: Un corazón engarcholau no ye un corazón bueno ni sano. Si i dentras, mái te desepararás d´o suyo costau.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-16914194953794528122009-05-04T14:55:00.000-07:002009-06-25T02:05:21.134-07:00a mía amiga "a escaladora"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sf9kn30WGII/AAAAAAAAAnE/bbfrKd63XIE/s1600-h/amiamiga_aescaladora.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 311px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sf9kn30WGII/AAAAAAAAAnE/bbfrKd63XIE/s400/amiamiga_aescaladora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332091119991134338" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68);"><span style="color: rgb(224, 102, 102);"><br /></span></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Plegó en a tuca y escubrió que eba escalau una montaña de corazons. Cuántos eban quiesto estar con ella y no lo eban conseguiu. Pero cuan paró cuenta que dengún no eba escalau o suyo que, toz os que eban feito un poder, no eban puesto pas plegar en a tuca. Cuan más trista yera y a suya sólenca compañía yeran as boiras y o son de l´aire, á o luen y cuasi como un chifliu, sintió... "Soi astí…” , "i soi puyau"..."á la fin i soi plegau".</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-17222039529899853382009-05-04T14:43:00.000-07:002009-06-25T02:09:26.690-07:00O mixín Federico<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sf9jwxTRPSI/AAAAAAAAAm8/FbaL9al8328/s1600-h/mixo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sf9jwxTRPSI/AAAAAAAAAm8/FbaL9al8328/s400/mixo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332090173348986146" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68);"><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >O mixín Federico teneba un esperto morro. Bibiba en a carrera y yera muito agudo.<br />Trobaba o que li s’ antuellaba, garra begada tardaba, se i ficaba por as finestras encara baxas.<br />Estió nombrau rei gatuno, encara que li sabió mal á belún.<br />Pero ascape lo querioron porque aduyaba mesmo á os más chicots.<br />Y ye que, si yes feliz, contachias mesmo á o más infeliz y mesmo puede estar que minches perdigana.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68);"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-56119086966055110422009-04-29T16:14:00.000-07:002009-06-26T00:58:39.475-07:00O país d´os corazons penchants<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfjgJSEtfxI/AAAAAAAAAm0/STjKOv7Rj3Y/s1600-h/carruchaz.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfjgJSEtfxI/AAAAAAAAAm0/STjKOv7Rj3Y/s400/carruchaz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330256609068023570" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Dimpués de muitos, muitos países besitaus, plegó en o país d´os corazons penchans, paró cuenta que o que yera iu escando sin esscanso, lo que tanto angluziaba, lo lebaba con él mesmo de contino.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-62679033672087743522009-04-29T16:11:00.000-07:002009-06-26T00:59:48.544-07:00Nina, a nina d´a selba<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfjfFettZII/AAAAAAAAAms/5Gt3XvvmA1o/s1600-h/nina.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfjfFettZII/AAAAAAAAAms/5Gt3XvvmA1o/s400/nina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330255444230104194" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(191, 144, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);"><br /><br /></span></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Os suyos cabellos perén flotan en l´aire, d’una color rosa que marabilla á tot qui tien a suerte de conoxer-la, o misterio que la rodia ye estraniamén atrayén.. Ye dulza, pero de bez distán y tien un don, contar falordias, no cualsiquier falordia, falordias de miedo, de misterio. Bibe en a selba, se diz Nina, siempre ba con o suyo moñaco, "Siñor Gosicallos". Si la quieres trobar sólo tiens que siguir as flors naranchas, una luz curiosamén rosa t´abisará d´a suya presenzia, i serás zerqueta, muito zerqueta, ixo sí, tiens que creyer-ie, si no, a selba, baxo a influyenzia d´a suya polideza ferá una fortaleza de brancas y fuellas y mái te dixarán plegar en ella.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-4180455181917308972009-04-28T15:53:00.000-07:002009-06-19T17:18:05.672-07:00Sr. Campano<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfeJnmjjM5I/AAAAAAAAAmU/CF9BwPxlSls/s1600-h/campano.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfeJnmjjM5I/AAAAAAAAAmU/CF9BwPxlSls/s400/campano.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329879997473829778" border="0" /></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Siñor Campano yera muito desdichau, toz s´arregiban </span></p> <p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">d´él por o suyo aspeuto, o nombre tampoco no l´aduyaba, ye platero.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Os ninos li feban a mofla y lo encorreban por as carreras cantando rimas y fendo-li momos. Dengún no charraba con él, dengún no lo conoxeba. </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Un diya, yera tan triste que pilló a suya cordion salió á la carrera y tañó una melodía tan trista que crebó l´alma de toz os que yeran á o suyo arredol.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Replecoron que, por a suya farcha, no eban feito un poder ta conoxer-lo y que Siñor Campano yera terriblemén desdichau.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Una nina que yera á o canto d´él cuan tañeba, se ficó a man en a pocha y sacó una bola roya que brilaba, catando á os güellos á Siñor Campano, dizió: Me fa duelo, Siñor, que a nuestra inoranzia li aiga feito tanto mal. li doi un trozet d´a mía felizidat ta que la lebe con busté por do i baiga.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Siñor Campano no podió amagar a suya emozión y li dizió: No t´alticames nina, o sólo feito que te bi aigas amanau ya ye o mío trozet de felizidat.</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68);"><span style="color: rgb(224, 102, 102);"><br /><br /><br /></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-57907092316541105212009-04-28T15:49:00.000-07:002009-06-26T01:03:20.262-07:00O nino codete<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfeIOZCE95I/AAAAAAAAAmM/_nTzix_YuC0/s1600-h/nino_codete.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfeIOZCE95I/AAAAAAAAAmM/_nTzix_YuC0/s400/nino_codete.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329878464835418002" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Se diz que, en as fiestas d’un lugar, un nino muntó un codete y se pasó 20 años bolando. No dizen cómo aturó, pero rezentan que se sintió una tremenda esclatada y que nunca más se tornó á beyer á o nino codete. A suya maí desaconortada dizió "mái sapeba cuan aturar".</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-151033217878669652009-04-28T15:29:00.000-07:002009-06-19T10:23:20.814-07:00Os mediebolus<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfeDgm1nwsI/AAAAAAAAAmE/2fq_RXFReBU/s1600-h/monstros_mediebolus.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 336px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfeDgm1nwsI/AAAAAAAAAmE/2fq_RXFReBU/s400/monstros_mediebolus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329873280220775106" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(191, 144, 0);"></span><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Se diz que fa muitiiiiiismas muitiiiiiiismas añadas, esistioron unos monstros clamaus "mediebolus" s’amagaban en os castiellos, digo s’amagaban, porque dengún no adubió á beyer-los aintro, pero se sentiban.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">A! pero ixo sí, cuan a nuei trayeba tronada saliban d´o suyo amagatón y patrullaban por as carreras dixando-ie un bayo malebolo y berde, á la begada que entonaban una arizonán canta.</span><br /></p> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">"Semos os terribles monstros mediebolus que xorrontamos á os ninos y biellos perellos.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Pero si belún gosa aturar-mos, li amostramos as diens y se parlatica en beyer los.</span></p><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-91435683983206936712009-04-28T00:56:00.000-07:002009-06-26T01:15:27.308-07:00bolar<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sfa5YxdFK-I/AAAAAAAAAl8/Ny9ITImY7pw/s1600-h/buelar.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 376px; height: 218px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/Sfa5YxdFK-I/AAAAAAAAAl8/Ny9ITImY7pw/s400/buelar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329651044282870754" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"></span><br /><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Dende ninón sonió con bolar... se debantaba como un rayo, correba por o carrerón, que yera muito largo y, ta la suya impazenzia, inrematable. Meteba toda mena de sillas, libros, tot lo que li podese aduyar ta plegar en o cobalto d’a nebera, y antis que o suyo pai lo podese pillar, blincaba con os brazos ubiertos. No me demandez cómo, pero nunca no se feba mal, lugo lo sentiba correr enta yo chilando "“¡¡¡lola, lola, puedo bolar, puedo bolar, puedo bolar!!!”<br />" O suyo pai estió en momentos de l’infarto muitas begadas, creigo que o pelo li se quedó blanco tan choben de tanta estreta por parti de Wily. O malo estió cuan crexió y a nebera li se quedó chicota... Pero astí lo tenez, con o suyo suenio feito reyalidat, nabatiando por o ziel y tenendo de compañía las suyas aimadas boiras. Pro bien, Wily, sapeba que poderbas.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-59246760406096329102009-04-27T15:50:00.000-07:002009-06-19T10:20:06.103-07:00Agüerro<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfY2sDN_cfI/AAAAAAAAAlE/mkqCwNWlo00/s1600-h/aguero.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfY2sDN_cfI/AAAAAAAAAlE/mkqCwNWlo00/s400/aguero.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329507339445694962" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(127, 96, 0);"></span><span style="color: rgb(127, 96, 0);"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">Ordenó á os suyos disziplos cubrir a selba</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">con tonos royencos y de colors ocres,</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">ta que garra ser que i pasase,</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">en beyer o espeutaclo, no s’emozionase.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"> </span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-30863669298810597822009-04-27T15:28:00.000-07:002009-06-26T02:01:45.857-07:00Luzía y a suya compañía<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfYzEhXDQ6I/AAAAAAAAAk0/bs29T2wLDZo/s1600-h/mostros.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 379px; height: 373px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfYzEhXDQ6I/AAAAAAAAAk0/bs29T2wLDZo/s400/mostros.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329503361807106978" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68);"></span></span><p><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Luzía yera una ninona muito, muito feliz.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >en o suyo almario teneba una familia de monstros, bai sí, pero no tos xorrontez, no yeran monstros malos, yeran buenos, tan buenos que cadagún feba o suyo papel.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Don Papamutus, o monstro azul y más serioso, s’encargaba de que á Luzía dengún no li fese mal.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Doña Mamamutus, toda de rayas y con una riseta que li plegaba...bueno, no puedo dizir d´orella á orella pero teneba una gran riseta.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >s’encargaba de que Luzía no se fese mal, cuan beyeba periglo de trepuzón, de topetazo con atro nino, u d’embarfada, ascape bi amanixeba.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Y Bebemutus, o más trazón y chicorrón que s’encargaba de Luzía, de que perén se gronxiase, encara que toz sapeban que más que entretener á Luzía s’entreteneba él.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Luzía s´ha feito gran y en o suyo almario ya no tien á ixos amigos tan peculiars pero bella nuei se debanta, ubre a puerta con muito cudiau y sansonia...</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Papamutos, Mamamutos, Bebemutus</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >i soz?</span></p><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-80087657329918558572009-04-27T15:13:00.000-07:002009-06-26T02:01:57.699-07:00Abiadora<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfYwLgYOlSI/AAAAAAAAAks/6sBz8fmmAcU/s1600-h/abiadora.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfYwLgYOlSI/AAAAAAAAAks/6sBz8fmmAcU/s400/abiadora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329500183267808546" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><p><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Cada libro ye un biache, no creyez?</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Pos ixo ye o que pensaba Irene,</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >cada begada que ubriba un libro, se meteba o suyo casco,</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >os suyos mirallos y dando un blinco se’n puyaba en o suyo lomo.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >bella cosa pasaba...bella cosa acayezeba, as luzes s´amortaban,</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >as finestras s´ubriban, bolaba, bolaba dica que se feba de diyas.</span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-35231728655461989132009-04-27T04:22:00.000-07:002009-06-26T04:50:17.709-07:00Marionetas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfWV3zHNdiI/AAAAAAAAAkk/lgRpnGz1qtg/s1600-h/marionetas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfWV3zHNdiI/AAAAAAAAAkk/lgRpnGz1qtg/s400/marionetas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329330519908644386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><p><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Y demandó con todas as suyas fuerzas estar libre, </span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >de botiboleyo as suyas bagueras se combirtión en ligallos de seda,<br />que fazilmén podió sacar-se...y mái más se sintió marioneta.</span></p><span style="color: rgb(56, 118, 29);"><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-91961508001609968252009-04-23T17:09:00.000-07:002009-06-20T06:53:03.319-07:00Noa y a suya caxeta<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfEDZlllsOI/AAAAAAAAAkU/XX8lRlS2Ptg/s1600-h/noa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 345px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfEDZlllsOI/AAAAAAAAAkU/XX8lRlS2Ptg/s400/noa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328043572277391586" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(76, 17, 48);"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Tos presento á Noa, una ninona muito espezial<br />Tien una caxeta que no trafega de bista.<br />Do bi alza un tresoro que toz os que la rodian</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >deseyan tener... os suyos pochons</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-80307888864724738502009-04-23T17:01:00.000-07:002009-06-26T04:50:45.241-07:00A mía ballena<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfECEhkyk4I/AAAAAAAAAkM/_0lHFhwpisY/s1600-h/pirata.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 389px; height: 334px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfECEhkyk4I/AAAAAAAAAkM/_0lHFhwpisY/s400/pirata.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328042110911419266" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >A mía ballena nunca no ye plena.<br /><br />Soi un pirata que sulca os mars</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >ta que minche y s´aduerma.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;" >Y si belún se bi amana, lis chilo y esfurio<br />con a mía espada de fusta.</span><span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;" > </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"></span><br /></span></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5325084281441847053.post-3848983927613131572009-04-23T16:46:00.000-07:002009-06-26T04:54:22.620-07:00Empezipiamos á debuxar<div style="text-align: center;">Que diya bi ha millor ta enzetar<br />iste blog que o diya de San Chorche.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfD-KEnGABI/AAAAAAAAAj8/WuHchDMKDrA/s1600-h/lapizero.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 174px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfD-KEnGABI/AAAAAAAAAj8/WuHchDMKDrA/s400/lapizero.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328037808169156626" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Asinas que a fer-ne de fainas que bi´n ha muitas, y como ye<br />un diya espezial, un debuxo adedicau á o nuestro patrón.<br /><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;" ></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfEATvpw7II/AAAAAAAAAkE/Awy3-PEUnPY/s1600-h/Chorcheyosuyodragon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__6iT0HIeKH0/SfEATvpw7II/AAAAAAAAAkE/Awy3-PEUnPY/s400/Chorcheyosuyodragon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328040173365161090" border="0" /></a><br />Chorche y o suyo Dragón<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0